


Eye of The Storm

by Oceanbomb5



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Dragons are a Girl's Best Friend, Gen, No Beta We Die Like The Dreams of Small Children, OC Loves Living, OC is a Big Nerd, OC just want to be Free, OC makes Future References, OC will go to very severe lengths to achieve this, The World is a Beautiful Place, they sing, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:28:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29717184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbomb5/pseuds/Oceanbomb5
Summary: It was a Tempest. Howling winds, rain pelting her face, and her cloak flaring behind her like wings. The rough fabric clinging to her form, only to flair out at the next gust.Each push forward was a struggle and she was slogging through mud, her feet swallowed by the rain made bog after every step.Her face hurt not just from the rain and wind, her cheeks were throbbing and her teeth barred to the world. She felt like she could soar for all that she was wingless. Her smile was wild and her eyes held a flame that did not exist before.For before she was Rune, she was nothing. But before she was nothing, she was someone else. And she remembered a tale from then.A story about a boy, a dragon, and a bond that beat Titians.And there were DRAGONS here. Chained like she, but not for long. She would break their chains and free their wings and gain her own.





	Eye of The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rainbows in the morning gives you fair warning.

A name is what defines you as a person. It is what identifies you and gives you a sense of individuality to separate yourself from the masses. Just a specific set of frequencies and vibrations leaving the mouth can make a person.  
Kind of scary, if you think about it.

In this life, she was given none. A name was earned, never given. And one was definitely not just given to a thrall. 

That was what she was, a thrall, a piece of property according to the people here. Her only goal in this life is to be useful to her owner. And it was not like she could just run away either. Her dark skin and hair would give away her nature, even if you didn't include the symbol branded into the flesh of her back. Not even that all she had to do was open her mouth and she would instantly be asked where her owner was. Another challenge she had to face in this new life, language.

The new language was harsh and guttural, nothing at all like her mother's almost musical tongue she sung on harsh winter nights. All sharp sounds and gnashing teeth, it was beautiful in its own way, she supposed.  
Like how a wild animal was, harsh and unforgiving, there was beauty in being unrepentant and true to one's own nature.  
Not like her mother's language, which was all lyrical sounds and rising notes. That was a more general type of beauty. The names matched that as well. Dag and Ximena were her parents here, ...well, one was of the man who helped create her, and the other was her Mother's name.

To her owner, whom she should have been able to call "Father" in a different time and place, she was a future investment. She was the ninth child her mother had born and only the third girl. She was the only one that he didn't immediately sell-off as soon as he was able. 

Other slaves had broke before even reaching their fifth child. Depression would set in, not that they called it that here. The sage woman called it "the Draugr's Mind" and said there was no cure. Often to keep "Draugr's Mind" from setting in, it was common for the owners to allow the mothers to keep one child. She had seen what happened to Thralls who couldn't hide their depression well enough, and often the owners of said slaves did one of two things they killed them or sold them off. 

It was not only to keep her mother from breaking, but Dag also needed the extra pair of hands, for her mother was growing old.  
At least by thrall standards, she was old.  
Her mother was thirty-eight, and for a Viking thrall, that was practically ancient. For a Berserkian one, her mother was a miracle walking. 

Her owner was Dag Fett, a farmer in the Beserkian isles, and he named her after she survived her sixth summer in this new life. He had wanted a son, and her name reflected that. 

She didn't mind, "secret" was a better meaning than "eternal strength" anyway. A lot more appropriate too.

Her name was Rune, and it was a male name, traditionally.  
Not that Berserkians really followed traditions too much.  
She was a thrall, born on one of the many the isles of Berserk Archipelago, to Dag Fett and her mother. She had dark mahogany hair with her mother's curls. Dark tan skin a shade lighter than her mother's. Her eyes were a piece of the night sky that was reflected in her father. Her brows straight and thick. Her nose narrow and sharp. Her petite hands were already calloused from working with her mother in the fields since the age of eight summers. Knees knobby and limbs thin and gangly, but muscular all the same. She would never have the Viking stature of her sire, but nor would she ever gain the willowy frame from her mother.

Her name was now Rune, and one day she vowed she would be free. On this isle filled with Dragons and myths, she would fly.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is just to help me get my Juices flowing and to get some of my ideas out of my head.  
> .  
> I'm running out of room in my brain for all of my stories.  
> .  
> Updates for this particular fanfic will be much more sporadic then any other.  
> RED will update on the 11th or 22nd of every month.  
> Eye of the Storm will probably be in the gaps but I am not quite sure. I’ll add any concrete schedule into my notes.  
> Thanks for dropping by!


End file.
